Ghost Girl
by Theanimekitty89
Summary: Ghost AU. In which April and Donatello have never met face-to-face. One moment, she's on her way to her Aunt's to spend Christmas, the next she's dead. The intelligent turtle is not sure why he's the only one able to see her ghostly spirit wander the streets of New York aimlessly, only that he has to find her murder and avenge her. So she can rest in peace. Apritello.


**A/N: Probably shouldn't make so many stories.**

…

**Meh.**

**Let me say in advance that I'm not familiar with the street-names of America at all. So, there's that.**

* * *

**I: Her Death.**

The city of New York was glorious during winters. When the leaves would be stripped off the trees and instead be covered in a thick coat of snow that twinkled whenever small rays of sunlight would hit it _just _right, when the rain from a few days earlier would freeze and create icicles hanging from everywhere, or when people would go and ice-skate in the park during the night and truly enjoy the many activities that came from frozen liquid. Particular when the time for Christmas was approaching and the city would truly be busy with the marvellous decorations as well as the gift-buying and the families celebrating the holiday in each other's company.

A front-door opened and a quite stunning young girl exited; her body wrapped in warm coats, heavy boots and a scarf around her neck, her wavy red hair gathered in two small pig-tails that peeked out from over the clothing. Her deep blue eyes found the taxi in front of her house, her head titled back to gaze back at her father. "So, when exactly will you be meeting me at Aunt Ann's?"

"I'll be coming over soon, April," he replied in his thick green and red striped sweater, smiling apologetically. "You should be able to drive to my sister's house without your old father. I just need to finish some projects of mine before I'm ready to go."

"It's soon Christmas, Dad," the girl put her gloved hands upon her hips and shook her head, her brows furrowing disapprovingly. "You have to stop pushing yourself over your limits and relax."

"Something I'll begin on as soon as I'm done," the father said, chuckling. "Don't worry, dear. I'll be fine."

April's frown smoothed into a smile as she reached over and embraced her father. "If you say so."

He waved at her as she began to climb into the yellow vehicle, yelling; "Have fun with Ann until I get there!"

The young girl returned the wave, closing the door and motioning for the driver to get her to her Aunt's location. He nodded briefly, not meeting her gaze as he lowered the cap he was wearing to cover his eyes and started the engine started the engine; soon they had left the front of her home where Mr. O'Neil quickly retreated into. April drummed her fingers impatiently at the seat before taking out her phone and headphones, immediately turning to her music to pass the time with. It would take half an hour for the driver to reach the address, so the redhead leaned back comfortably upon the passenger seat, letting the familiar music drown out all noise and disturbances from the outside and fill her with peace…

**...**

Under the tons of snow, the thick ice and the layers of coldness, deep underground the grounds and streets of New York, through several of sewer tunnels and channels laid yet another home. One that stood out completely from them all; this one included four mutant teenage turtles and their supposed Sensei and Father who was a mutant as well; his form being a giant rat. During these times of extreme cold they were usually all in one room at the same time to gather enough warmth when the heat-instalments weren't quite enough as well as the few blankets that they currently owned. Today, they were seated in front of the television where they watched a few films, or they nearly all did because they lacked one member. The youngest could be heard in the kitchen, doing something in there that puzzled the others but none bothered to actually what it was.

"Hey, Knucklehead, what are ya doing _this_ time?" the red-banded turtle finally asked, struggling to find anything worth his attention on the TV-screen. The youngest peeked his head out with a broad grin, small excited giggles escaping his mouth.

"Dudes! You gotta see this; _everything_ in the fridge is like, totally frozen!" he announce with nothing but eagerness audibly in his voice. "The milk, the insides of the eggs, the cheese, even the pizza!"

The tallest turtle sighed, rubbing his forehead in thought. "With the added cold from the outside, this outcome should've been predicted. I'll have to turn off the electricity to the fridge-."

"Later, bro! I'll be the first turtle _ever_ to taste frozen pizza!" the orange-banded turtle rushed back inside the kitchen, regardless of how Donatello explained how doing so would be a bad idea.

"Can't say ya didn't warn him," Raphael shrugged and continued his channel-surfing.

"Ow, ow, _ow_! Brain-_freeeeeeeeeeeeeze_!" came the shriek from the kitchen in response.

"Whatever shred of brain you had before is definitely gone now," came the following comment from the living-room.

"I'll help him," the olive-green turtle said as he rose from the couch, leaving the laptop to rest on a cushion and was on his way over to tend to whatever mess Michelangelo had gotten himself into this time, before the news suddenly flashed through the screen, the blue light from it illuminating the dark room.

"_This is Carlo Chiang O'Brien Gambe with shocking news; at three thirty this afternoon a horrible tragedy occurred, when a taxi skidded due to the apparently ice-coated roads and crashed straight into a nearby building. The taxi-driver survived and came out with minor injuries…but I unfortunately cannot say the same for the passenger._"

Donatello stopped instantly, turning his head to gaze at the report, watching silently as said taxi was filmed; the front as told before being completely crashed with several of broken part laid around it and burns slicked across its painted walls, indicating how it'd caught fire after it crashed.

"_The deceased was a young girl by the name April O'Neil. A smart woman known to the streets by the youngsters who went to school with her but sadly won't be seeing her ever again. Her body will be buried in a few days by her family and hopefully many people will be present to acknowledge the girl who had her entire life before her and how incredibly tragic it is for her to die in this incident_."

The camera showed someone who appeared to be her father, standing over a stretcher where a body laid covered with a white sheet; his face drenched in tears and his body shaking terribly with every sob. The auburn-haired woman who stood beside him held a tissue before her nose, her blue eyes filled with tears as well at the loss they were experiencing. Donatello felt bad for the human family; it didn't look as if the girl who died had many siblings…or even a mother, seeing as the crying woman shared many facial traits with the father so she could only be his sister. He felt incredibly touched by this display, especially by what the reporter said; the girl was too young to have died at such a young age and this family didn't deserve to have lost a family member. The turtle knew how life could seem unfair at times, but this was just cruel.

Sighing, he left as soon as the news had changed into something else, finding that Mikey's temporary 'brain-injuries' had subsided and that he was currently munching on the rest as it had melted entirely. The youngest went to join the rest of the family on the couch where Donnie just shook his head with a small smile and decided to get his mind off the recent death by continuing on one of his metallic creations in his lab. Picking his laptop under his arm and announced his departure as he entered his room.

Putting on his goggles and working gloves, the intelligent turtle prepared for a few hours of intense but enjoyable work as he glanced around to find his stack of journals for the recent projects he'd been doing the last few days. He searched through the shelf next to his bed where different kinds of thick books dominated the space and under his bed. It really bugged him where he had put his papers; it didn't seem like him to misplace something so important. Unless someone else had been in here. He began to rise himself from his bed when he noticed how the heat inside the room had dropped rapidly from earlier. He really should do something about that cold or else it'd have drastic consequences-

Wait.

His intelligent chestnut-brown eyes snapped open in shock at what they saw before him.

His journal.

Floating in _the air_.

Donatello stared at the papers until they dropped on the floor and he let out a high-pitched yelp of surprise, scrambling to his bed. This went against every logic he could think of, his mind going into overload in order to work out a rational explanation for this hallucination-worth occurrence. He worked enough courage to leave his bed to tentatively reach out and take his journal, noting that not only did it feel normal in his grasp but that the temperature had gone to normal levels once again.

The olive-green turtle gave a nervous chuckle; there was nothing to fear here. It was just his mind playing tricks on him, quite uncharacteristic but definitely explainable. Waving the papers in front of his face to cool himself down, Donatello walked over to his desk to begin his delayed work.

That was until a cold breath hit his neck and he turned to gaze directly into a transparent face that said:

"Oh God, you can actually _see_ me."

The result was instant; he fainted.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not sure if this was quite the best beginning to begin a ghost-fic, but I hope so.**

**R&R, folks.**


End file.
